


tidings of comfort and joy...

by Shakespeares



Category: The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, nothing to see here!!, this is an excuse for me to write christmas fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:08:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21937222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shakespeares/pseuds/Shakespeares
Summary: five times Jem Carstairs celebrates christmas.
Relationships: Jem Carstairs/Tessa Gray
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	tidings of comfort and joy...

**Author's Note:**

> this is for my friend, who doubles as a bakery lady. you know who you are.

Jem Carstairs _loves_ Christmas.  
When he’s little, Christmas in Shanghai consists of long dinners.  
It consists of warm hugs from his mother.  
Presents from England his father brings back for him.  
It consists of light, and laughter.  
Of _love_.  
It’s this, Jem thinks, this feeling.  
He wants it to last forever.  
___________________________________________

Christmases at the institute are bittersweet.  
On the one hand, he misses the warmth of his family, his biological family. He misses when his time wasn’t limited, when his days felt endless.  
On the other, he has found a new family in England, chosen for himself. They’re friends, people who love him, people who, like him, each carry losses of their own.  
This night, Christmas dinner at the institute is lively, and Jem can’t find a reason to complain when he has his parabatai to spend it with.  
“What is _that_!?” Will exclaims, once they’re all seated around the dinner table.  
“What is _what_?” Charlotte asks. Confused at the distaste in the boy’s tone.  
“That…. _thing_!” Will sputters, as ge points at the piece of meat like it has personally harmed him.  
“It’s cooked duck, William,” Jessamine’s shrill voice interrupts, annoyed at the dramatics, “it’s what the real high society has for Christmas.”  
Jem anticipates what comes next: Will, with his peculiar fear of poultry will refuse to eat a bite, which will lead to exasperation from Charlotte and Sophie.  
Jem watches in silence as the scene unfolds, smiling at his new, albeit loud, people.  
Christmases might be different now, compared to the Shanghai holidays shared with his parents, but this familiar display of rowdy affection brings a warmth to Jem’s frail heart.  
Christmases like this, he thinks, aren’t so bad.  
___________________________________________  
As a Silent Brother, Brother Zachariah stops celebrating Christmas.  
Instead, his nights now consist of time spent in the Silent City, of healing, but most of all, of eery, deadly silence.  
The Christmases at the beginning of his Brotherhood service are the hardest. He longs for what he used to have, of who he used to be.  
He thinks of times spent with his family in Shanghai, of holidays before, in a different lifetime. He thinks of his family, his loved ones. The people he misses. Of his mother, his father, of Will,  
Of _Tessa…_  
As a Silent Brother, Zachariah wonders if he’s even allowed to miss them, if, instead, he should just be glad he’s alive at all.  
One Christmas Eve, though time has become a hazy concept, Zachariah visits the Herondale residence, he doesn’t know why he does it, why he would subject himself to this way of silent torture, yet his feet seem to carry him there anyway.  
Standing on their doorstep, hand poised in a fist ready to knock on the door, he finds that he hesitates.  
What is he _doing?_  
_Why is he here?_  
He’s vaguely aware of laughter somewhere, the faint sound of carols in the London streets.  
The effects of his illness have prevented him from fully adhering to the Silent Brother laws, and It is moments like this that he longs, begs, for his ties to his humanity to be severed  
It’s moments like this when he’s sure he doesn’t quite fully belong anywhere anymore. His person drifting somewhere between Brother Zachariah and Jem Carstairs.  
Inside, a wave of warm laughter shocks him from his thoughts, and feeds the hollow feeling in his chest.  
Fisting his hands, he burrows his chin deeply in his robe. Then, Brother Zachariah turns from the door and starts making his way back through the harsh winter night.  
In silence.  
___________________________________________

His first Christmas with Tessa feels like pure _magic._  
Sitting in their London apartment, her sock-clad feet on his lap, he laughs at something Tessa is telling him. A joke of some sort, based on their shared memories of good old times.  
So far, their night has consisted of a three course meal, courtesy of Jem, but if you ask her, Tessa proclaims she helped him cook, a feat she’s, to his utter delight, decidedly not very good at.  
He smiles at the thought.  
Currently, they’re watching Christmas movies on their couch, mugs of eggnog on their too small coffee-table. There’s something so domestic about it. It makes him smile.  
Later, he thinks, she’ll give him a look, one that shows the glint in her eyes. A glint that’s so truly, irrevocably Tessa. She’ll shut off the TV, give him a teasing kiss, and pull him into their shared bedroom. The night undoubtedly ending in a mix of tangled limbs, undying laughter, and piles of Christmas sweaters on their bedroom floor.  
For now, Tessa’s joke is followed by a comfortable silence, their apartment cozy and warm, though that could also be caused by the obscene amount of Eggnog they’ve consumed.  
Jem finds that he doesn’t mind the silence as much anymore, now that he doesn’t necessarily associate it with something bad.  
Instead, he revels in it.  
The kind of silence that only comes with blissful and utter content.  
It’s christmases like this, thinks Jem, that couldn’t possibly make him any happier.  
____________________________________________

It _itches._ That’s all Jem can think about as he adjusts the fake white beard that’s hiding his entire chin from sight. His disguise is elaborate, meaning Tessa and Kit have gone all out to complete this particular mission.  
Helping him dress up in his five-piece Santa costume, Kit can’t help the mischievous twinkle in his eye.  
“Looking good, old man,” Kit teases, handing him his bright red Christmas hat.  
Though his Mina had yet to turn one, she revelled in the Christmas spirit, her beautiful face lighting up every time Tessa turned on the Christmas lights or brought home a new stuffed animal to add to her collection.  
Adventurous as their baby was, Tessa had promised her she could meet Santa this year.  
Jem was all but glad to provide, even if it meant donning this ridiculous costume.  
Quietly entering their dimly-lit living room, Jem plants a sack of presents under their tree, a tree that him and Tessa had carefully trimmed to match their victorian decor. Containing an ornament that represents each member of their family, the tree covers a large part of their living room. There’s a little violin for him, a cat bauble for Church, a book for Tessa, a tiny Batman for Kit, but also a tiny duckling, and a Chinese lantern to remind him of Christmases past.  
As if on cue, the door creaks open, revealing his wife in her night robe, carrying a wide-eyed baby on one arm.  
“Look, Mina!” Tessa whispers to their baby.  
Jem still can’t help but think of her as a tiny miracle.  
“Look who’s here!” her voice carrying a tone of wonder.  
Mina’s tiny giggles echo through the room, also summoning Kit from his bedroom, sporting a knowing smile on his face.  
“Min, look! Isn’t this cool? Santa came to visit!”  
Though growing up as an only child, Kit had really taken to Mina, going out on outings of his own, and having his own inside jokes with her. Or, at least, Jem thought they were inside jokes.  
“Say bye Santa!” Kit says as he takes her hand and encourages the baby to wave.  
Giving Jem a wink, Tessa ushers both of them out of the room, no doubt already preoccupied with trying to get their energetic baby to sleep through the night after such an incredibly exciting ordeal.  
On Christmas day tomorrow, Jem will undoubtedly be reminded of the people they both have lost. Of his parents, of his second family, of their Will, of her children. But most of all, they will celebrate what they have. How a new chance of life was given to both of them. They’ll huddle by their fireplace, enjoy Jem’s cooking, watch one of Kit’s movies, and Tessa will undoubtedly demand Jem play a Christmas carol for them.  
Jem, though prideful, can admit that he’s wrong sometimes.  
Christmases like _this_ , he decides, are the best.


End file.
